


Broken Spell

by ForensicSpider98



Series: Love After the Fact [67]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, All this stress is bad for the baby, Altean Adam (Voltron), Altean Prince Lance (Voltron), Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Balmeran Hunk (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Galra Shiro (Voltron), Galran Prince Keith (Voltron), Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Olkari Pidge | Katie Holt, Post-War, it's keith. keith is the baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26653180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForensicSpider98/pseuds/ForensicSpider98
Summary: Keith enjoys a morning out with Lance... Except for this one, *tiny* problem
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Alfor/Coran (Voltron), Allura/Lotor/Romelle (Voltron), Haggar/Zarkon (Voltron), Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Love After the Fact [67]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635043
Comments: 31
Kudos: 146





	Broken Spell

Keith wakes to a bare leg slung over his hip, fingers trailing from his shoulder and down his side, sliding across his waist to form teasing circles low on his abdomen. Lips flutter against the edge of his exposed ear, just a hint of teeth.

“Seriously?”

“What? I spent almost a decaphoeb celibate for you!” The Altean snuggles closer. “And now I find myself with a  _ beautiful _ man in my arms who, unlike anyone else I’ve ever had, is entirely  _ mine _ .”

The growl on Lance’s final word has Keith wavering, until he shifts and discovers the discomfort between his legs. He sucks in a breath between his teeth. “I think the fuck not, Lance. What did you  _ do _ to my vagina?”

“Crude. Also, nothing. Discomfort is normal your first time. But I  _ can _ fix it, if you like.”

“Please do. And how would you know that’s normal?”

“Well, I have an ass.”

“Gross.” Keith sighs as Lance’s quintessence slips beneath his skin. He’s come to associate that warmth slithering into his veins and nerves with Lance’s love and affection. It's familiar to him now, bringing him comfort, a sense of home and belonging. Basically, he’s a huge sucker.

“Hm… I’d love to have you in it.”

“ _Lance!_ ” Keith roles over, discomfort gone, glaring at his mate. Lance raises an eyebrow. “I’ll... think about it. Thace says that I have to check and make sure my dick works anyway.”

“I’d be delighted to help, either way.” The Altean's smile is playful, easy-going.

“I’m sure you would.” Keith sighs. “So that’s the plan then? Have sex all day?”

“Mnh, no. We're going home before your season.”

“Lance, I need to have my season here. And stay two movements after that to see if I’ve conceived-”

“I meant  _ your _ home, beloved. Your childhood home, remember? We said we’d-”

“Really?! You- Really?!” Keith’s face lights up like a thousand stars.

Lance beams. “Yes, really!"

Keith throws his arms around his mate. He'd never really doubted Lance's word, but that word still means _worlds_ to him. Furry, plumed tail twisting around his ankle, purring loudly in his throat, Keith nuzzles into Lance's neck. He loves this Altean so much, couldn't think of a better place to be than right here.

Okay, maybe he's riding the high of being freshly mated, but he actually doesn't feel that different than before. Maybe a little giddy, but other than that... no more or less full of love. Still just as overflowing.

Laughing, Lance squeezes him tight, fingers running through his long, loose hair. He lets go all to soon- "Let’s go! Get your clothes on!”

Keith leaps up, scrambling for a fresh set of clothes. Lance flops back on the bed, chuckling as his spouse’s eagerness. The Galra pauses, turning back to meet Lance’s soft gaze. “What?”

“I love you,” Lance sighs.

“Well I should hope so, since I just gave myself over to you.” Keith grins, just a little cocky. “I love you, too.”

He pulls his shirt over his head, tucks the hem into the waist of his pants. Lance is still staring at him. “ _ What? _ ”

“Are we really gonna have a baby?”

“So that’s what you’re up to, is it?” Krolia leans in the doorway. Lance shrieks, pulling the blankets up to cover himself. “Making kits?”

“Well, we’re going to try. We’ll see what happens,” Lance squeaks. “Could you, um, let me get dressed?”

“Yeah, seriously, Mom. What the fuck?” Keith snickers, settling his circlet on his head. He hasn’t worn it in a while, but feels like it today. Lance wears his every day. 

“Fine.” Krolia turns around, still leaning against the wall. “You do realize, don’t you Altean, just how easy it is for a Galra in season to conceive?”

“Uh… Not really, no. Altean females ovulate every ten movements -two phoebs-, and even then pregnancy is far from assured. It can take decaphoebs to-”

“During season, pregnancy is all but guaranteed, even for intersex people like Keith, though they do have a slightly lower success rate.” Krolia turns back, slow, slim smile on her lips. “So you’d better be damn well sure you want a kit with my son.”

Lance, fully dressed, slips an arm around Keith’s waist. “We have a responsibility to provide my kingdom with an heir. It’s an ugly thing, but it is something that we  _ must _ take into account.” Keith’s tail twists around Lance’s ankle, squeezing tightly, approval of his honesty and forthright. “That said, I have wanted to be a father since I was a small child myself. I’m more than ready for it, and more than certain. Especially if I’ve got this one by my side!”

Lance beams, pressing their brows together. Keith purrs, soft and sweet in his throat. 

“Right. So, we need elk, and supplies, and to meet up with hunters-”

“I want to visit the Sanctorium. I need to get an offering for my father.”

“You’re going back home? It’s almost your season!” Krolia frowns.

“Yes, which is why we’re going now,” Lance argues. “It’s not  _ terribly _ far, it’ll give me a chance to see some of the wilderness, and we’ll be sure to return within a movement. In the meantime, we’ll send a message to Thace and inform him of our intentions to conceive, and he can begin collaboration with our own castle health care professional, Tavo, and Hunk, who is in charge of providing Keith’s meals. Additionally, I’ll have Adam and Pidge break into Daibazaal’s database and steal Lotor’s medical records. Honerva and Zarkon refused to unseal them for us.”

“Odd.” Krolia cocks her head, counting her coins, passing them to Keith. “Why would they refuse?”

“Not sure. Perhaps his records will tell us something. I intend to ask the man himself, as well.”

"Let me do it," Keith murmurs. "He's my cousin."

"Sure, of course! Do let me know what he says, though."

Krolia eyes them, gaze dark. “The Imperial couple is as morally dubious as Alfor is. Everybody knows that.” 

Keith ties the bag of coins to his belt, scooping BleepBloop onto his shoulder. The primate works a hand into Keith’s hair, the other exploring his circlet. “Possibly even worse, though that is debatable.”

“Oh. Remind me to tell you about that later,” Lance mutters, suddenly looking nervous. “But for now, to the square! I want to see this 'Sactomium' you talked of.”

Arms linked, Keith leads Lance through the crowded streets, attention completely on each other save one moment where Lance murmurs something to Krolia, and she heads off with a nod, and something shiny in her hand...

The Sanctorium is a large structure, much like a den, but much larger, surrounded by gardens, vines creeping up the sides. Druids in long robes and masks walk among the vegetation, taking clippings and peeling bark from trees. Windchimes made of metal, wood, glass, and stone sing from tree branches and metal stands. There are Galra praying, meditating, simply walking about the grounds. Some converse with Druids, perhaps seeking spiritual council or advice on different rituals.

“So what are we here for?” Lance asks, gazing up at the structure. It’s clearly treated with respect. The stone is cared for and polished, painted with intricate designs, stained glass in the windows.

“Herbs. And a few different crystals. I need to make an offering spell for my father. For both a reunion and a goodbye.” Keith passes BleepBloop over to his mate, leading the way into the Sanctorium.

Inside is just as fascinating as the outside. There are shelves, arranged in a spiral shape, a single aisle through the middle to a desk, a Druid standing just behind. The shelves are lined with… stuff. Some, Lance can tell, are herbs, seeds, bits of stone and crystal. Some are definitely pieces of animals, like feet, claws, teeth, tails, and feathers. Others are… presumably one or possibly more of those things, but Lance can’t really tell.

“Hey, what do you think about this?” Keith holds up a clawed foot of some kind, only for BleepBloop to snatch and start munching on it. The Galra rolls his eyes at his uncooperative pet.

Lance shrugs. “I… Know nothing at all about your religion, either your magyks or your gods.”

“The basics are as follows,” Keith says, wandering through the aisles, grabbing seemingly random objects. “Different stuff does different stuff and only the druids know all of the stuff. And we have gods. There are hundreds of them, and everyone picks one or two to observe.”

“So who do you observe?” Lance leans over to inspect a box of he knows from his studies are shards of volcanic glass.

“Trija.” Keith continues selecting, measuring, gathering different objects, setting them all in a clay jar.

“Trija?” Lance’s brow furrows, a bit of forgotten knowledge tickling at his mind.

“She’s a star. A small one. She was our first empress, who supposedly married a sorceress and joined her in the stars when they both died.”

“I see… Why did you pick Trija?”

Keith pauses, fingers hovering over a box of dried fruits. Or maybe they were some kind of dead animal? He shakes himself, sets one of the dried… things in his jar.

“It was the only star I remembered. My father, he tried to teach me about the stars. I was really little, only six when he died, and I was a…  _ precocious _ child-”

“Sassy. Opinionated. Stubborn. An _adorable_ pain in the ass, no doubt.”

“Heh, yeah. Pretty much. But the one that managed to stick with me, no matter how unwilling a pupil I was, was Trija, because of the story. I held onto that, all those years. I was little, and alone, and I couldn’t sleep hardly at all. So I’d sit on top of the den, or in a tree, and I’d stare at her for hours, and it made everything just a little bit better. It made me feel less alone.”

“Keith…”

Keith’s fingers stop trailing over jars of herbs, turning to look at his mate, only for the Altean to latch onto him like a sucker eel, squeezing him tight. “I’m sorry. It was Altea’s fault you went through all that. My people took your father from you. I’m so sorry, Keith.”

“It’s not your fault,” Keith mutters, voice surprisingly thin. “Don’t apologize for them.”

“I promise I’ll ruin our childrens’ childhoods by spoiling them, not killing their parents.”

“Well, I am one of their parents, so…” Keith noses into Lance’s neck. “Let me buy this, and then we can-”

Keith’s eyes find Krolia, leaning in the entryway, glaring at Lance with absolute loathing. Something inside him breaks a little bit. She’d  _ promised _ \- Well, no, she hadn’t promised, but she’d  _ agreed  _ to give Lance a chance, to give him the opportunity to prove himself. And yet here she is, his  _ mother _ , staring at  _ his mate _ like she wants nothing more than to eviscerate him.

Something in Keith hardens, even as he squeezes Lance harder so he won’t pull back and see. He feels betrayed. It must reach his eyes, because Krolia falters in her glare, blinking at him in alarm. 

Keith meets her gaze, stares her down as he rubs his cheek against Lance’s skin. Petty? Totally. Possessive? Oh, yeah. Necessary? Absolutely. He hates it, but yesterday, he would have chosen Lance, and today, it wouldn't be a choice at all.

“Come on, beloved.” Lance rubs his back, soothing circles. “Let’s get the stuff for your offering, and then get you home.” The prince draws back, lacing their hands together. “I want to meet Akira of house Kogane. I want to thank him for saving you.”

“Of course you do,” Keith murmurs, smiling, hand slipping up to link their arms. “I don’t remember him very well, but Dad would have liked you. He was the fun-loving, mischievous type. I think… That’s how I remember him, anyway.”

“If he made you, he must have been. You certainly didn’t get it from Krolia.”

“Yeah…” Keith grimaces, paying the druid behind the desk for his stuff. “You’ve no idea.”

“I mean… I’ve shared a room with her. For about a varga. I think I’ve at least  _ some _ idea.”

Keith laughs. He just wants to enjoy Lance’s company, riding the high of their freshly consummated bond.

“But you know… Your mother has had a hard life, and one far from painless. It might just be taking her a while to remember how to do those things.”

“Yeah. I guess. Maybe.” They step together out into the sun. “Maybe she’ll loosen up as time goes on, huh?”

“Lance!” Krolia jogs up, like she just arrived. “I need to speak to you for a moment. Alone.”

“Very well.” Lance lifts their joined hands to indicate a pair of elk, laden with saddlebags, suddenly reminding Keith of his first night in the castle, when Lance gave him a tour of their quarters. “Your mother procured some supplies and elk for us, over there. Do you mind?”

“I guess not…” Keith eyes his mother cautiously. “See you soon?”

“Yes, and then we’ll leave.” Lance kisses his cheek, hurrying after Krolia.

Anxious, Keith heads for the elk, recognizing one of them as Lance’s doe from training, Bruna. He rubs her nose. “Hey, pretty girl. You’re gonna take good care of my dumbass mate for me, right? Assuming my mother doesn’t kill him first?”

Lance comes running up, a bag over his shoulder. “Okay, lets go!”

“What’s in the bag?”

“I’ll tell you later; let’s go!” Lance vaults onto Bruna, turning expectantly to his dazed spouse. “Kee-eeith. Let’s gooo-oooo.”

“R- Right!” Keith mounts his own elk -nameless, because he’s not an enormous dork-, urging him into a walk. “So we’re really leaving, then?”

“Yes, we’re really leaving! I can’t wait to see it! I want to see  _ everything _ , remember? Remember when I-”

“You’re going to talk the entire way there, aren’t you?”

“Wha- No! No, I’m not! But I just want to mention-”

Keith smiles, shaking his head. His mother’s glare still stings, but it’s hard to be angry when facing off against Lance’s smile. He doesn’t see his mate like this very often -hardly ever-, so he might as well enjoy it while he can.

He does have a question though, one that’s been nagging at him for the better part of a movement now… 

**Author's Note:**

> Next time on Love After the Fact: Keith asks Lance for a story from the past, and Lance makes a confession. Or two.


End file.
